Diligendo iustitiam, et virtutem
by Miss Gems
Summary: A series of one-shots featuring our favorite angel couple. Never let it be said that love was simple, or ever makes sense.
1. Perfect

New series of oneshots, because I have a bunch just laying around on my computer, and figured it wouldn't hurt to post them. Chapters can range from fluff to angst to smut (which is why it's rated M). If anyone has a request, I'd be happy to take a go at it.

**Perfect**

The Heavens were quiet. Quiet in the way thing are when everyone is happy with life-a rare thing really. Everyone was trying to prolong the event, in the laziest, most satisfying ways they could. Two archangels in particular were making the most of the break in their busy life.

Imperius lay with his legs dangling off a ledge. His wings were spread about, his head was tilted back, and his arms had wound their way around his companion. Tyrael was curled into the larger angel, and nearly asleep- between Imperius' natural heat, and Heaven's warm sun, he couldn't really be bothered to keep his hidden eyes open. Imperius didn't seem to mind, if he noticed at all.

Nothing had been said between the two since they had lain down. They would not ruin things for themselves and others by getting into one of their 'debates'. No, the angels just lay, content with their closeness.

It may have been hours or days before things finally began to move again. Everyone felt it as the lethargy that had settled over them dissipated. Yet still, Imperius and Tyrael remained silent. They rose from their sprawled positions, stretched their magnificent wings. But they said nothing.

Valor and Justice didn't bother splitting up however. Rather, they both continued together towards the Halls of Valor.

Once it had been strange to see both Imperius and Tyrael striding through the Halls together. Now it was more or less a commonplace sight. They spent as much time as they could manage together now. It went unsaid that to interrupt them when they were alone together was to interrupt some very intimate things. It also went unsaid that to do this was to court a very angry Valor.

Secretly (or not so secretly in Auriel's case) everyone was very pleased for the two seraphim. They belonged together really. Completed each other. It was perfect.


	2. Good?

First M-rated chapter. I see Imperius as enjoying being dominated sometimes~

**Good?**

Heat poured off his frame. His golden-red wings spasmed around his lover's own electric blue. He tossed his head from side to side, mouth agape, panting to try and cool himself.

The large angel let out a long, low moan, feeling himself nearing his end. His smaller lover only thrust harder into his soft, love-slick hole. Golden hands squeezed crimson hips, kneading as the blue-gold angel brought them both to their pleasure-high.

The moan began to climb in pitch and volume, and the smaller let out his own breathy keen as he felt his peak nearing. The two abruptly reached the height of their crescendo, and invisible mouths crashed together as pleasure shot through them both, overriding any other thoughts or actions.

They lay, chests heaving as they panted, limbs tangled together limply, brows pressed together. The two angels basked in the afterglow of their sweet, sweet lovemaking, even as the smaller began to rearrange them into a more comfortable position.

"So..." Tyrael murmured in his larger lover's ear. "Was it good?"

Imperius could only nod, utterly spent, and quickly falling into a pleasant, easy slumber.


	3. Dancing 1

**Dancing**

For the longest time, war was all any of them knew. Battle, regroup, and repeat. Battle, regroup, and repeat. That's all there was to it.

The dance floor was set, now all it needed was its dancers. Angels and Demons alike came together to perform their great routine, rehearsing the steps over and over.

And always were the lead dancers, so beautiful in their gruesome set, flitting about each other and their opponent. Dual streaks of blue and gold and red and fire. They twisted and twirled around each other, and really did make their battle look like a dance.

It was gorgeous and awful to see them ripping into the opposing dancers, tearing down foe after foe. So in tune were they with one another that it seemed they could never falter. One would never fail, because the other was there to be depended on, and depend on in turn.

When the arrangement was finished, and all the other dancers were dead or gone, the pair would stop, take their bows, and return to their homes. They knew that despite the greatness of this run-through, there was always more to come.

But that was okay with both Imperius and Tyrael. It gave them an excuse to dance together.

* * *

I will probably make a second part to this. With some _actual _dancing. Throw some messy romance in there or something.


	4. Dancing 2

**Dancing 2**

There were brief lulls in battle. Everyone made the most of the free time that came with them. Naturally, Valor and Justice would spend the time together.

Everyone knew that if not for their eternal war, the two would most likely have long ago courted and been united. As it was, the two seraphim shared a bond as strong as any coupling.

Whether in battle or at rest, they would dance together. In battle, they kept a gruesome, ruthless tempo, quick and precise. At rest, they slowed into a calmer rhythm. Sometimes, their dances grew into passion and intimacy.

There were times when they were alone from the world, where they'd dance with abandon, careless and joyous in their choreography. There had been times when they'd pull each other close, lightly swaying, an air of sadness about them.

Few really saw them dance. Those that had knew that Tyrael often took lead, and that Imperius often had to get creative because of this. They would know that the times Imperius lead were actually slower dances.

They would also notice that these slower dances tended to get very intimate. They would leave before the two archangels began their more affectionate dance.

* * *

Yes they give each other lap dances. On special occasions of course.


	5. Pressure

**Pressure**

Imperius fought not to kick Tyrael away. His wings writhed and pulsed into and around his lover's. The smaller angel would have smiled were his mouth not … occupied.

He'd hooked the Valor's legs up over his shoulders, and was ever-so-softly drawing his tongue over hot, exposed skin. He licked his way up the hot inside of Imperius' thigh, and sucked on the spot where his leg met his pelvis.

Imperius wasn't sure whether to enjoy the teasing or not. It felt good, but it was creating such pressure inside of him… it was torturous. And Tyrael knew it. The other knew exactly what he was doing to his lover, the internal conflict Valor felt.

Tyrael loved making the powerful archangel come apart like this. He could get the crimson seraph to do whatever her pleased, with but a tiny but of pleasure.

But today, he didn't want that kind of submission. Today he wanted to hear Imperius _scream._

And scream he did.

* * *

For some reason I really enjoy putting Imperius on the bottom. Quite mini-smut because the chapter I _want_ to post is taking forever to write and this was just begging to be finished.


	6. Scent

**Scent**

Each of the archangels had a specific sense that they were particularly in tune with. Auriel had excellent hearing; Malthael could see things others could not. Itherael, strange as it was, had mentioned being able to identify just about anything with the tip of his tongue. When he took off all his armor, Imperius was surprisingly sensitive to touch.

Which left scent to Tyrael. Honestly, he was quite pleased with his heightened sense. He used it more often than not, be it in battle or in the Heavens. Vision was often obstructed when fighting, and it helped to be able to tell friend from foe with a single inhale. It made identifying and locating other angels quick and efficient.

There had been times when he'd had to rely on his sense of smell if he ever wanted to see Inarius again – the angel had a habit of hiding when upset. The same went for Malthael, who would lock himself away with his Chalice.

He'd found over the years that some smells were far more interesting than others. He really enjoyed the scent of fresh paint, for it meant his brother was at peace with himself. The dull aroma of paper and ink had become very ordinary to him, and it was rare that he ever felt anything for that particular smell.

His favorite fragrance – and for him it really was a fragrance – was that which was unique to Imperius. A mix of salt, leather, a blacksmith's forge, somehow fire, all wrapped together with the heavy aroma that permeated the halls of valor. He knew the minute the larger angel was near, for his scent was one that never failed to bring a twinge of excitement.

* * *

It's mentioned (i think more than once) that Tyrael can smell demons in the Sin Wars. My brain took this and stretched it into that thing you just read.

Tyrael likes the way Imperius smells. Probably gets off on it.


	7. Hurt

**Hurt**

He'd never known pain quite like this. He'd never been quite so very upset. All because of one angel; one stubborn, reckless, _foolish_ angel. By the light, the more he thought about it, the more his emotions raged.

All he really wanted to know was _why?_ Why did this angel have to be like this? Why did it affect him so?

Privately, he knew that he wouldn't want to have it any other way. He loved this angel the way they were. He wouldn't change a thing about him, and perhaps that was why it hurt him so much.

He knew the fall affected them both. He knew that the other was probably in as much pain as he was right now. He just had no idea of what he could do about it.

Were they destined to stay parted? Would Fate keep them separated for the rest of their short eternity? He wished, hoped, _prayed _it was not so. It was just…too unfair!

And still pain ripped into his heart, his soul, crying for that other.

* * *

Had to do some angst at some point. It started out as Imperius' point of view, but as I wrote it, I realized it could be either. So it;s whoever you want it to be :) Or both even~


	8. Sometimes

**Sometimes**

Sometimes, after a good battle, Imperius got rather… affectionate. More than once he'd come straight off the battlefield, walked straight over to Tyrael, and, still covered in the remains of Hell's armies, attempted to initiate cuddling. Tyrael had discovered just _how much _of Hells armies got caught in the big angel's armor.

Sometimes, after a bad battle, Tyrael got a little… discouraged. Unlike Imperius, he did not go straight over to the other angel and beg for affection. No, he'd flit around; sometimes actively avoid the other seraph. Only when Imperius had him cornered in a secure location would he allow himself to accept the comfort his partner offered.

Sometimes, when it was really good… Tyrael couldn't help himself. Not only would he give into Valor's wishes, he'd indulge some of his own as well. Sex off the battlefield was some of the best, he'd quickly discovered. Imperius was very enthusiastic.

Sometimes, when it got really bad… Imperius would refuse any contact. He'd snarl, flare his wings aggressively, and inevitably whoever was trying to interact with him would turn tail and flee. All except for Tyrael, of course. Imperius had often asked him to leave him be when he got like this; Tyrael always refused.

And Sometimes, on an average day when there was no battle… there was no need to attempt to get the other's attention.

* * *

It's 9:30 and I just got out of the shower; better wright some cuddly ooc angel fluff. Imperius is a very affectionate furball when he's not arguing or trying to kill you.


	9. Protection

**Protection**

Tyrael had quickly come to the conclusion that many, perhaps even most, of the Heavenly Host did not approve of his mortality. Imperius certainly didn't, and that hurt him a little more than he wanted to admit. If he was bring honest with himself, he probably deserved some of that pain.

To his surprise, it was not in fact Imperius who was most vocal about their disapproval; that honor went to his lieutenant, Balzael. By the light, that angel never came in the same room as him without calling attention to it.

Usually the angry angel would just tell him how weak and disgusting he was, and Tyrael would ignore him. This day, however, found him snarling back words of anger and hate. Balzael only seemed encouraged by this reaction.

Thus the two began an increasingly heated argument. It reached a boiling point where Balzael drew his blade, and Tyrael, realizing he seemed to have a fight on his hand, raised El'Druin.

They may have fought right then and there if not for the sudden arrival of an irritated Imperius.

"Balzael, stand _down._" It was all the larger angel needed to say.

Balzael instinctively recoiled from his superior's presence – he knew he would have to go through the Archangel of Valor to get to Tyrael. And he also knew he wouldn't come anywhere close to a victory against _Imperius_.

With a growl, the angel flew away, leaving the two archangels alone.

Tyrael stared at Imperius as the angel relaxed his wings from the protective fluff they'd been set at. Valor coolly returned his gaze, saying nothing.

As the seraph turned to leave, Tyrael smiled. It was nice to know that he still had the other's protection.

* * *

Things can't always be fluff and happiness between these two. But Imperius still cares for his brother.


	10. Roses

**Roses**

Tyrael had been a very observant angel. This had come in handy when he was studying Sanctuary, and even more so when he become mortal. He had quickly picked up on certain gestures, and things people did. Other things, not so much, but that was likely because the humans hid it, and these things had never really occurred to him.

One of the things he had noticed was the act of giving flowers. Specifically, roses. They seemed to always convey certain emotions, be it love, happiness, or even combinations of different emotions. It was all so very complex yet interesting to him.

Eventually, he'd asked Lorath what they all meant. The young Horadrim had been pleasantly surprised, and they'd taken a trip to the local florist.

* * *

Auriel was acting odd. She'd cornered Imperius on the way back to his chambers from a meeting, discussed a hundred-and-one things that had nothing to do with anything, and then wouldn't let him leave until he pointed out that they'd been standing here for an hour and a half.

Then the Archangel of Hope just laughed, and floated away. While it was not unknown for the female angel to strike up a bit of friendly conversation with just about anyone, this was odd. He wasn't sure what to make of it.

Shrugging it off, Imperius had continued on his way. He passed Tyrael, who was speaking with Nepherah for some reason. The aspect of Valor considered going over to see why the mortal was hanging around in the halls, but decided he didn't particularly care.

Upon entering his quarters, everything seemed normal. And why wouldn't it be?

Then he spotted it. Laying on his desk, looking very out of place in the red-bronze room, a room filled with the heads of demons, no less, was a single, white rose.

Imperius stared for a moment, and then the hint of a smile grew on his face.

* * *

Short small bit of fluff. I've been super busy recently, but hopefully will get back into this story.


	11. See You Succeed

Tyrael didn't think he'd ever seen someone so pleased to get kicked in the jaw before.

It made sense, he supposed; they were training, and he'd been trying to get a particular kick right for a little over an hour now. He just hadn't expected Imperius to be happy about getting hit.

Now that he thought about it though, every time he made an improvement, or executed a form well, the other angel would practically beam with pride. He just looked so damn pleased about getting struck, and that was just plain confusing to the Archangel of Justice.

Imperius was a prideful creature, yes. But that pride was almost always focused on himself or, perhaps, the angels under his command. It wasn't that he put others down exactly, but it was rare for him to take notice of other's successes. So _why_ was he almost always paying attention to Tyrael's?

It wasn't just in battle either, if he thought more. The bigger seraph often asked about how things fared in the courts, whether Tyrael had finished all the day's tasks, and how he was in general. It wasn't unusual for an angel to ask these questions, but Imperius did so _quite often_. More often than any other angel, that was for sure.

Realizing he was in fact still sparring with the object of his thoughts, Tyrael re-assumed his preferred stance. Then an idea hit him; what would Imperius do if he got knocked down? Getting kicked was one thing, getting beaten was another. With a flick of his wings, Tyrael shot forward. Only one way to find out after all.

Unfortunately, knocking down the Archangel of Valor was no simple task. He was considered one of the greatest warriors in creation for a _reason_. A kick, block and a punch later, and Tyrael found _himself _on the ground, with Imperius standing awkwardly over him with his hand out. Well that was opportunity staring him in the face.

Tyrael swept his leg out, nailed the other on the inside of the knee joint. Valor crashed the floor beside him... and started _laughing._

Well damn. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen Imperius that happy in his life.


End file.
